


drivers license

by AG1234VL



Category: Back to December - Taylor Swift (Song), drivers license - Olivia Rodrigo (Song), 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Back to December, Breakup, Crying Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Driving, Homophobia, Hurt No Comfort, Lots of Crying, M/M, Non-Chronological, Song fic, WangXian, breakup weight gain, do not drive while crying, drivers license, from lqr, ice cream and beer, it's probably really effing dangerous, or otherwise highly emotional, slight comfort?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AG1234VL/pseuds/AG1234VL
Summary: Mianmian stole a piece of tofu from Lan Zhan’s lunch, laughing coquettishly. Her red lipstick glistened winningly in the bright lighting of the cafeteria. Lan Zhan looked at her and said nothing.Wei Ying left the cafeteria without even bothering to buy lunch.Lan Zhan broke up with Wei Ying. Wei Ying is pretty much inconsolable.
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Luó "Mián Mián" Qīngyáng, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn/other
Comments: 145
Kudos: 412





	1. drivers license

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely because I've listened to around 10,000 renditions of "drivers license" already, and I still somehow love it.  
> And because my brain is full of wangxian, everything is about them.  
> The line "guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me" really made me think of "wangxian", though. So that's how this was born.  
> Had to call the song "zhanying" instead in this fic, because I scrapped their courtesy names. All in the name of the 21st century.  
> This is purely self-indulgent, and slightly Mianmian-bashing, so please don't read if you love Mianmian characterized as the most badass, most awesome woman ever. She's still badass here, but she's a badass homewrecker in Wei Ying's POV, so... be forewarned. To be clear, I do love Mianmian in canon and in many works where she's a great friend and person. Nothing against her, she's great.
> 
> Also I haven't had the time to proofread yet and I've no beta so apologies for any inconsistencies or grammatic errors... there shouldn't be many but I'll go back and edit a bit later, maybe.

_I got my driver's license last week  
Just like we always talked about_

“You are getting a driver’s license?” Lan Zhan’s voice asked from behind him, one day when he was flipping through a mock paper for the written test.

“Yeah! You’re always driving me around, and I just thought I could return the favour sometime, you know? Once I know how to drive, I mean.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan sounded nonchalant, but there was a fond smile in the corner of his lips as he looked down at him.

Wei Ying passed the written test with flying colours. He failed the practical test disastrously.

“Impulsive and careless driving” was printed in red, offending letters on the comments section of his test results. (Okay, so maybe he’d driven a tiny bit above the speed limit, and sped through a few traffic crossings just before the light had turned red, and turned corners a little bit too quickly, and jostled the poor examiner a little…)

Lan Zhan looked at him calmly in a way that absolutely meant he was laughing at him. “I can wait.” He said after Wei Ying had hit him indignantly on the arm, whining about unsupportive boyfriends. “You can take your time.”

“But Lan Zhan! What if I never pass?” He whined, widening his eyes cutely at his boyfriend.

“You don’t ever need to pass. I will drive you everywhere.”

“Lan _Zhaaan!!_ ” Wei Ying buried his flushed face behind his hands, an uncontrollable grin on his face. “My heart can’t take this! Warn me before you say the sweetest things to me!”

“Mn. I’m warning you now. I’ll drive you anywhere you want to go, forever. You never need to pass a driving test, but if you want to, I will support you.”

“Lan _Zhaaan!!_ ” Wei Ying cried again in mock admonishment, his hand swatting at Lan Zhan’s shoulder half-heartedly. He was smiling so widely he fancied his face would split if he tried to smile even an increment more.

It took him two more years to finally get his driver’s license.

  
_'Cause you were so excited for me  
To finally drive up to your house_

“You could drive up here instead of walking once you have your driver’s license.” Lan Zhan said with a glint in his eye that meant he was excited. He meant _you could come here more often, instead of only on days when you don’t have class_. He meant _you could drive up to my 2000 square feet house, like I drive down to your 400 square feet apartment._ He meant _we could see each other more._

“Yeah.” Wei Ying said, snuggling deeper into Lan Zhan’s side on the plushy pillows of Lan Zhan’s fancy sofa. “I could.”

Lan Zhan leant down to place a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips.

He spent the next few weekends giving Wei Ying extra driving lessons.

  
_But today I drove through the suburbs  
Crying 'cause you weren't around_

Wei Ying probably shouldn’t be driving with blurry vision, but no cars were around this late at night, so he tightened his fingers around the wheel and tried to blink the tears away. The streetlights flashed yellow and gold in the watery periphery of his sight, reminding him of Lan Zhan’s beautiful eyes.

He parked the car by the side of the road, overcome by a sudden rush of hopelessness. His head hit the steering wheel heavily, bringing forth a dull honk that echoed in the silent streets. A glass fell and broke somewhere in one of the picket-fenced houses in the nice neighbourhood he was in. Someone screamed in the distance.

The street was quiet again.

“Lan Zhan.” He said into the void, his voice breaking. “Why?”

A desolate howl rang out over the small, picturesque suburban neighbourhood that night. Wei Ying’s heart felt like it was shattered all over the backseat of his rental car. He was trying to piece it back together, he was, but the shards keep cutting at and slipping through his fingers, and none of them fit together anymore.

“You should be here.” He whispered into the night. The light wind shuddered with the weight of his anguish, tousling his hair through the open window.

Wei Ying cried until he had no more tears to cry.

_And you're probably with that blonde girl  
Who always made me doubt_

“Do you like Mianmian?” he whined at Lan Zhan, feeling illogically jealous at the extra glance that the pretty blonde girl afforded Lan Zhan as she walked by.

Lan Zhan maintained eye contact with the girl for three more seconds before he tore his gaze away to look down at Wei Ying, who was pressed against his side. “Hm?” he asked distractedly.

Wei Ying swallowed, strong vinegar burning its way down his throat. “Do you like Mianmian?” he repeated, tugging at Lan Zhan’s sleeve to keep his attention.

Lan Zhan looked back at Mianmian as she walked away, her perky behind wriggling tantalizingly with every step she took forwards in her 3-inch red heels.

“… No.” he said.

Wei Ying clung harder at his arm. “No, what?”

Lan Zhan finally looked down at him, his brows gently furrowed in annoyance. “No, I don’t like her.”

“Okay.” Wei Ying said in a small voice.

Lan Zhan drove him home that day in dead silence. Wei Ying could not bring himself to speak.

  
_She's so much older than me  
She's everything I'm insecure about_

Mianmian was pretty. Wei Ying always thought she was prettier than he could ever hope to be. She dressed with class, her skirts swishing around her as she walked through the campus like she owned it. Wei Ying, in contrast, lived in oversized hoodies and ripped jeans. He tripped over his own untied shoelaces more often than he liked to admit.

Mianmian’s blonde hair was always straight and well-kept, flowing over her shoulders like a waterfall. Wei Ying often felt self-conscious about his own messy, wavy, and more often than not, tangled, dark hair around her. She had wider hips, a better figure. She was slimmer and more toned than Wei Ying, who had always been skinny fat with lanky limbs and a slightly pudgy tummy. She was older than him, wiser, closer to Lan Zhan in age. She studied business, just like Lan Zhan, while Wei Ying majored in computer engineering. She probably understood more about Lan Zhan’s studies, his work, his worries, his joys.

She was perfect for Lan Zhan. Even Lan Qiren had said so to his face.

Mianmian was everything he was insecure about.

  
_Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs  
'Cause how could I ever love someone else?_

Wei Ying stepped harder on the accelerator, flying through the empty roads and the deep, sullen darkness of the night.

“We should break up.” Lan Zhan said, like it was simple, easy.

Like he’d already gotten over Wei Ying.

“But what am I supposed to do now?” he’d whispered in the drunk voicemail he’d left Lan Zhan at 3 am yesterday.

He’d awoken to a pounding headache and a voicemail from Lan Zhan at 5 am that same morning.

“Get over me.” Lan Zhan said in his deep, calm voice, unemotional like it was a matter of fact, as if in every universe, Wei Ying would get over Lan Zhan the way the sun rose in the east every morning.

As if Wei Ying could ever love anyone else.

_And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one_

Wei Ying walked tearily back into the sitting room where Lan Zhan was sitting quietly on the sofa, shoulders slumped in a way that would be devastation on any other person.

“I’m sorry.” Wei Ying said. “It was silly.”

Lan Zhan held out his arms imploringly. Wei Ying slipped into his hold without hesitation, his arms coming up to stroke against his back. “I won’t go to the rave if you don’t want me to.” Wei Ying conceded, sniffing a little. “It’s not worth going if you won’t be there, anyway.”

Lan Zhan held him tighter. “No need to apologise. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you, either.”

Wei Ying snuggled deeper into his embrace, legs shifting to wrap themselves around Lan Zhan’s waist. “I feel like a koala bear.” He mumbled softly into Lan Zhan’s chest.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan’s chest rumbled back.

“You’ll be my tree?”

“Mn.”

“I want to climb gege like a tree.” Wei Ying giggled, wriggling mischievously on Lan Zhan’s lap.

A slight huff that might have been a laugh escaped from Lan Zhan’s parted lips.

Wei Ying grinned, raising a challenging eyebrow at him.

Lan Zhan sighed and stood up, putting his hands under Wei Ying’s ass to support his weight. He kicked open their bedroom door and put Wei Ying down on the mattress.

“Behave.” He said gravely.

Wei Ying looked up at him and smiled, something warm and gold lighting him up from the inside.

“Careful, Lan Zhan,” he laughed. “if you keep being like this, I might just stay with you forever.”

“Good.” Lan Zhan breathed against his lips, his hands tugging impatiently at his belt.

Their lips met, fit, warmed, explored. They came back up for air, Lan Zhan’s hands slipping under Wei Ying’s T-shirt, Wei Ying’s hands stroking through Lan Zhan’s hair.

Wei Ying tugged Lan Zhan closer, resting his forehead against his, their hot, heavy breaths mingling. “I’ll love you forever,” he breathed desperately against his lips, dipping down for another kiss before resurfacing. “I’ll love you forever if you let me.”

“Love you.” Lan Zhan whispered back, kissing his lips, his chin, his neck, sucking bruises into the junction between his neck and shoulders as if every bite were a vow, the sealing of a promise.

The bitemarks on his skin healed within the week.

Wei Ying wondered if his vows, his love had faded with them.

  
_And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone_

Lan Zhan seemed… so okay. So unaffected. So cool and unruffled it made Wei Ying angry. It made tears rise unbidden to his eyes, burning hot and furious against his eyelids. It made Wei Ying feel hollow.

Wei Ying still saw Lan Zhan around irregularly – in the ethics class they shared, in the hallways, in the cafeteria, in the little coffee shop fifteen minutes from the main campus.

Lan Zhan sat alone now, an island in the sea of chattering students. He didn’t seem to mind, or even notice the difference now that Wei Ying wasn’t there to prattle his usual nonsense in his ear. He set up his computer and waited quietly, patiently for class to start.

Wei Ying sat flanked by his brother and Nie Huaisang, his eyes lingering over the empty seat next to Lan Zhan. Words died like ashes on his tongue. He pulled the hood of his oversized hoodie up, leaning his heavy head against his crossed arms on the desk. Jiang Cheng glanced at him worriedly from the corner of his eye. He ignored it in favour of staring blankly at Lan Zhan, who had never seemed as far away and as detached as he did now.

Mianmian walked in, looked around, and slipped into the seat that used to be his. Wei Ying frowned. Mianmian didn’t even take this class. Lan Zhan turned to look at her and nodded at whatever she said. Mianmian walked out again, her skirt swishing with the rhythm of her footsteps.

Every clack of her high heels on the floor felt like a slap to his face.

_Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me_

Lan Zhan played him a beautiful song on the guqin, golden eyes softly trained on his blushing face.

“For me?” he whispered in the heavy quiet after the last note had faded away.

“For you.” Lan Zhan confirmed in a low voice. “I wrote it for you.”

Wei Ying moved from where he was sitting cross-legged opposite to Lan Zhan to snuggle into his warm side.

“What’s it called?”

“ _Zhanying_.”

  
_'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street_

Wei Ying traced his fingertips gently over the printed characters of their names on the top of the music sheet.

“ _Zhanying_.” He repeated softly, smiling.

“What does it mean?” He looked up at Lan Zhan, heart full to bursting.

“It means I love you.” Lan Zhan said, placing a kiss against his forehead.

“It means I’ll love you forever.”

_And all my friends are tired  
Of hearing how much I miss you, but  
I kinda feel sorry for them  
'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do, yeah_

“Shut up.” Jiang Cheng said wearily, burying his head under a pillow. “Stop doing that”, he waved vaguely in Wei Ying’s general direction.

“Doing what?” Wei Ying said listlessly, hugging his own pillow to his chest.

“Moping.”

“I’m not moping.” Wei Ying scowled at the wooden floorboards of Jiang Cheng’s bedroom.

Jiang Cheng sat up and gave him an exasperated glare. “What would you like to call it, then? Crying over your ex every five seconds or so? Talking about how much you miss him every fucking time I see you? Sticking your head in tubs of ice cream and drinking your own weight in beer every other night?”

Wei Ying looked down at his feet, feeling a new tear track its way painfully down his hot, swollen cheek. It was true. He was a mess, these days.

Jiang Cheng’s voice gentled slightly at the pitiful sight he made.

“Get over him already.” He sighed. “He’s such a fucking ice cube I can’t imagine he would’ve been a good boyfriend, anyway. There are plenty more fish in the sea. Bigger, better fish. You can do better.”

Wei Ying shook his head in a soundless wail. “You don’t understand,” he managed through shaky breaths and blurry sight. “he was the best.”

“He is an _asshole_.” His brother hissed through clenched teeth. “Stop being like this, I’m going to beat him up.”

Jiang Cheng stood up and stormed towards the door. Wei Ying jumped out of his seat to wrap clinging arms and legs around his brother. “No.” he hiccupped. “Don’t.”

His brother sighed, deflating. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry.” Wei Ying mumbled into the wet spot on his shirt, more tears smearing it by the moment.

Jiang Cheng patted his back awkwardly, sinking to the floor as he struggled to support both of their weight. “What do you even see in him?” he muttered derisively.

And Wei Ying thought privately that he kind of felt sorry for him, because he’d never know Lan Zhan the way he did. Jiang Cheng would never know Lan Zhan’s gentle, subtle smiles, his infinite patience when Wei Ying was being jumpy and anxious, his kindness and sensitivity hidden behind a cool exterior.

Wei Ying curled his limbs tighter around his brother, refusing to let go. Jiang Cheng scowled half-heartedly at him. “Get your fat ass off me.” He growled, still patting his back in comfort. “All that ice cream and beer is going straight to your butt.”

Wei Ying huffed out a reluctant laugh. “Cheng Cheng, are you sure it’s not just you slacking off on arm day?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed in response. Wei Ying leaned further into his unresisting hold.

  
_Today I drove through the suburbs  
And pictured I was driving home to you_

Wei Ying used to imagine what it would be like if they were married.

Lan Zhan would work at the company his family owned, and Wei Ying would probably code for some tech company or other. They’d wake up in the morning and have breakfast together. Lan Zhan would give him a kiss before heading out. In the evenings, Wei Ying would drive home in his black Toyota Corolla, and curl up with Lan Zhan on the sofa. They’d take turns cooking, and Lan Zhan would remember to add extra spice to his food while Wei Ying would remember to add less spice to his. Saturday nights would be movie nights, and they’d watch the romcoms Lan Zhan seemed to have a liking to.

Wei Ying would be able to kiss Lan Zhan every day, sleep with him every day, love him every day.

Maybe they would adopt a child together. Lan Zhan would teach them to be the sweetest, kindest child in the world, and Wei Ying would teach them how to have fun and be smart.

It was a dream that made something in him _ache_ in want, once. It was a dream that left him hollow and hurting on sleepless nights, now.

Wei Ying drove faster, faster still, as if he could outrun his foolish dreams like this. As if he wasn’t just driving in circles around Lan Zhan’s neighbourhood in the new black Toyota Corolla he’d dreamed of.

Nothing fit anymore.

He turned on the radio, and tuned into a random channel. “ _Where are you now?”_ a male voice crooned in falsetto, electronic beats filling in the interior of his car.

Wei Ying turned the radio off, and pictured he was driving home to Lan Zhan. Pictured a world where he hadn't lost him.

One last time. He would let himself be weak one last time.

_And I know we weren't perfect  
But I've never felt this way for no one, oh_

They had their small arguments, but Wei Ying had never loved anyone like he loved Lan Zhan. Up until recently he’d thought Lan Zhan had felt the same about him.

Apparently he’d been wrong.

Wei Ying watched Lan Zhan walk by him in the cafeteria, eyes passing over him like he’d never known him at all. Like he was invisible.

 _Look at me_. He begged silently.

Lan Zhan walked up to Mianmian and sat with her at the table at the corner of the cafeteria, the corner that used to be _theirs_ – Lan Zhan and Wei Ying’s.

Now it was Lan Zhan and Mianmian’s.

Mianmian stole a piece of tofu from Lan Zhan’s lunch, laughing coquettishly. Her red lipstick glistened winningly in the bright lighting of the cafeteria. Lan Zhan looked at her and said nothing.

Wei Ying left the cafeteria without even bothering to buy lunch.

If he attended all his afternoon lectures that day with his hoodie drawn over red-rimmed eyes, no one said anything.

  
_And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone  
I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me_

Wei Ying shuffled into the coffee shop fifteen minutes away from campus with his hood drawn low over his head. “Americano, please.” He grunted at the cashier, fishing out crumpled bills from the pockets of his sweatpants. “Venti hot.” He was still wearing the same hoodie he’d worn the day Lan Zhan had broken up with him almost a week ago, and he felt gritty and disgusting in it. His eyes were swollen and sticky with repeated bouts of crying and sleeplessness, and he was so bloated from ice cream and beer none of his regular jeans had fit him (eventually he’d given up and just thrown on a random pair of sweatpants).

It was early enough that the coffee shop was still very quiet, and Wei Ying breathed a sigh of relief as his pounding headache finally eased a little. He nursed his hangover over his steaming cup of coffee at a secluded corner of the shop, taking in deep breaths of the soothing aroma.

He was taking his first sip when _he_ walked in. Wei Ying spat his mouthful of coffee back into the cup and tugged his hood more securely over his face. He did not want to be seen right now. Not like this. Not now.

Lan Zhan looked as beautiful as he always had in a light blue sweater and jeans. His face was clean-shaven and composed. He didn’t look like he’d lost an iota of sleep, or shed a single tear from his placid golden eyes. He looked normal. Serene.

Like he hadn’t just broken up with his boyfriend of three years exactly five days, six hours, and twenty-four minutes ago. Like their entire relationship had meant nothing to him.

Wei Ying swallowed the bitter tears that threatened to well up behind his eyes. How could he? How could he still be so perfect? How could he act as if they’d never been in love?

Had he ever loved him at all? Had _Zhanying_ been a lie?

Silent tears dripped into his coffee. It tasted salty and bitter and burned his throat as it went down.

Lan Zhan ordered his usual jasmine tea at the counter. Wei Ying quickly slipped out through the backdoor of the shop.

He threw the rest of his coffee into the nearest trash can. He didn’t feel like drinking it anymore.

  
_'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street_

If he turned right at the next junction, he could drive right up to Lan Zhan’s house.

Wei Ying gripped the steering wheel harder as he pushed forwards, his knuckles a stark white against the black wheel. He’d dreamed of driving with Lan Zhan riding shotgun in his car, golden eyes blinking slowly at him in a way that meant he was pleased. He’d imagined picking Lan Zhan up from work years down the line, driving both of them home proudly. He’d assumed it would be his right to. He’d assumed they’d have a home together. His assumptions had been wrong.

His car moved swiftly past Lan Zhan’s street. Wei Ying’s eyes slid shut and blinked open, stinging heat building behind his eyes. If he squinted, maybe he could make out the silhouette of Lan Zhan’s house in the corner of his rearview mirror. Logically, he knew it wasn’t possible. He thought he saw it anyway. It stood there, gleaming white and blue melting into the purplish-grey of the surrounding night. It was austere in its beauty, distant as a shard of snowflake in a cloud.

His car suddenly seemed so silent and stifling he wanted to scream. He choked on loneliness like smoke. The cool night air slipped through his open windows and settled into his vehicle with a welcome chill.

His fingers were so numb they almost felt frozen to the wheel. Wei Ying fancied they would break if he tried to move them.

It was just as well. They could join the broken shards of his heart in the chilly backseat.

_Red lights, stop signs_

_I still see your face in the white cars, front yards  
Can't drive past the places we used to go to_

It was so late it was early. The traffic lights flashed a melancholy neon red at the empty roads and streets. The neighbourhood was as still and quiet as it had been all night. A white Audi was parked by the road, and for a moment Wei Ying could almost believe it was Lan Zhan’s.

Lan Zhan’s white Audi used to outshine every grey corner of his shabby, cramped apartment complex whenever he drove down to visit Wei Ying. It had been something that had both pleased and annoyed Wei Ying. Pleased because it meant Lan Zhan had come. Annoyed because his SUV was so ostentatious he was always half afraid it would get either stolen or destroyed in a fit of jealous madness.

And now he saw Lan Zhan’s face, his golden gaze and soft mouth, in the windows of every white car; his subtle smile and slow, happy blink in every fucking front yard of the neighbourhood.

Lan Zhan used to drive him through his neighbourhood for fun, and he’d made Wei Ying drive around here for extra driving lessons, two-word reminders and encouragements slipping occasionally from his mouth from where he sat beside him.

He knew every store, every Starbucks, every Taco Bell around the corner.

Somehow the familiarity made it hurt more, not less.

_'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe_

Wei Ying had been talking about which flavour of ice cream he wanted when it happened.

“We should break up.” Lan Zhan said out of nowhere, his face blank and cool.

“ – what?” Wei Ying stopped short in the middle of the road. His stomach dropped, tiny tremors racing their way up his body. He hadn’t been expecting it. He’d been an idiot not to expect it.

“Why?” he managed to say through numb lips.

“I am engaged.” Lan Zhan said, his face still infuriatingly expressionless, his voice impossibly calm and flat.

“I – what? Who?” Wei Ying hid his trembling hands behind him, his heart shivering, breaking in his chest.

Lan Zhan cocked his head slightly to the right, and remained silent.

“Are you making this up? Why are you doing this?” Wei Ying’s voice cracked at the last word.

Lan Zhan said nothing.

“What went wrong? Tell me!” Something broken was seeping into his voice, and Wei Ying hated it, hated how he sounded so desperate, so demanding.

Lan Zhan started to turn around. Wei Ying held onto his wrist as tightly as he could, his fingers digging red imprints into his skin. _Good_ , he thought almost viciously. _I hope I leave marks._

“Lan Zhan! Talk to me. What happened? Was it me? I can change, Lan Zhan, I’ll stop talking so much, stop playing so many pranks, start waking up earlier. I’ll be good, Lan Zhan, I’ll be so good you won’t recognise me.”

“Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan why aren’t you saying anything? Talk to me. Please…” His nose was burning, tears blurring his vision.

“Lan Zhan…” his next breath came out as a sob. “Please, I’ll do anything. I’m sorry, please, come on!”

But Lan Zhan said nothing.

“Lan Zhan, I love you. Please.” He tried, holding on, holding on so tightly to him. “You… it has to be you. I’ve never felt this way for anyone but you.”

Lan Zhan stiffened a tiny amount in his hold. A flutter of hope entered his chest.

“We can fix this, whatever this is.”

Lan Zhan twisted his wrist roughly from his hold. “No.”

Wei Ying watched him walk away, barely able to comprehend that they were over. They couldn’t be over. They’d been so good together. His knees gave out, jagged pieces of his heart painting the concrete floor in blurry, bloodless greys and whites.

  
_Sidewalks we crossed  
I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing  
Over all the noise_

Lan Zhan rarely ever laughed. Wei Ying treasured each and every one of them, hoarded them to his chest like one would hoard coal for winter. They burned now, they burned with a cold chill inside of him, stealing his warmth until he was but a hollow husk of tears and beer and ash.

The sun rose in the dark purple sky, painting the roads and sidewalks in shades of orange and gold. The odd vehicle had begun cruising lazily down the criss-crossing roads leading out of the neighbourhood. Early risers were beginning to get out and about, lights turning on in the windows of houses. The noise of light traffic was a dull roar against the background of his mind. If he listened closely enough, he could almost hear the phantom of Lan Zhan’s light humming surround him, the small huff of his warm laughter as his golden gaze rested fondly on Wei Ying’s messy appearance.

If Lan Zhan were here, he would be combing cool fingers through Wei Ying’s rumpled hair, gently berating him for dressing so lightly for the crisp weather.

But Lan Zhan was not here, and Wei Ying’s hands shook with more than cold under his skin.

  
_God, I'm so blue, know we're through  
But I still fuckin' love you, babe _

Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang stood in the doorway of his tiny apartment, faces set as they stared at him pointedly.

“You,” Jiang Cheng yanked the tub of ice cream he was still holding out of his hands. “need to get yourself together.”

“Ah.” Wei Ying said intelligently. “Okay.”

Then he walked back to his sofa, flopped down, and started crying into a pillow.

“Fuck.” Jiang Cheng exchanged a panicked glance with Nie Huaisang, who mouthed a quick “I don’t know” back.

“Wei Ying.” Nie Huaisang said quietly. “It’s been two weeks. We’re worried about you.”

It said much that Jiang Cheng, for once, was not correcting him.

Wei Ying half-raised his head from the pillow, then gave up and slumped back down. He idly considered whether or not he could get away with blowing his nose on the pillow. Probably not, he decided. Nie Huaisang would probably be so horrified he’d never talk to him again.

Jiang Cheng yanked the pillow from him too, forcing him to sit up with a quick tug.

“We’re going out tonight.” He said forcefully. “You’re coming with us.”

Wei Ying said nothing. He stared blankly forward with bloodshot eyes, as if he hadn’t registered anything Jiang Cheng said at all.

Jiang Cheng sat down the tub of ice cream on the nearest horizontal surface, which happened to be the floor. Nie Huaisang grimaced but took the pillow from him gingerly, holding it away from himself with his thumb and forefinger.

Jiang Cheng put his hands on his brother’s shoulders, and… shook him. Hard.

When he finally let go, Wei Ying was crying again.

“Fuck.” Jiang Cheng said again, succinctly. “Shit.”

“You still love him, don’t you?” Nie Huaisang said knowingly, a deep sadness in his own eyes.

Wei Ying nodded slowly, new tears streaming down his swollen eyes and puffy cheeks.

“Yes,” he rasped out, reaching out to take the pillow back from Nie Huaisang. “I do.”

_I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one  
And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone  
'Cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me  
'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street_

Nie Huaisang turned off the radio, frowning. “This song is on repeat everywhere.” He glanced sideways at where Wei Ying was sitting quietly beside him, staring blankly at his hands. “It can’t be good for you.” He said more gently.

“It’s okay.” Wei Ying said, his voice still hoarse from all the crying he’d just done. “I understand it.”

  
_Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So are Lan Zhan and Mianmian actually dating? Why did Lan Zhan break up with Wei Ying? Does he actually have a fiance? Who is it? Is Lan Zhan really as unaffected by the breakup as he seems? Did he truly love Wei Ying? Does he still love Wei Ying?
> 
> Who knows?  
> I'll leave it open-ended for you to decide ;)
> 
> PS: Kudos if you can guess what the first song on the radio was XD
> 
> Hiding out as [**crazibunnie**](https://twitter.com/crazibunnie) on Twitter. Follow me there to scream about wangxian tgt :P
> 
> 09/02/2021:  
> Hi everyone, thank you for the amazing reception! <3  
> For all the people who were crying in the comments section, may the sky rain with tissue paper for you all. Amen.  
> If you're wondering why I haven't responded to any of your comments yet, it is because many of you are looking for a sequel. And while I am not opposed to that, it will also take some time for me to get it right. Therefore, I am putting off replying to all of your "can we get a sequel?" and "SEQUEEEELLL PLZZZZ" comments until I can say for sure that there will be, indeed, a sequel.  
> To reiterate: there will be no sequel at present. Until there is one. Thank you so much for your support and love, I read every comment and I love every single one of your sweet words <3


	2. Back to December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lan Zhan is back in town 5 years after their breakup. He reconnects with Wei Ying on social media. Wei Ying agrees to meet with him for old times sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for the amazing response to the first chapter of this fic. This second chapter is for all of you who wanted a sequel very, very badly. 
> 
> [**"Back to December"**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUwxKWT6m7U) by Taylor Swift is the song for Lan Zhan.
> 
> As usual, I have no beta and proofreading's for the _weak _(no, in reality proofreading is for people with the luxury of extra time T_T), so all mistakes are mine!__
> 
> __Hope you enjoy <3_ _

_I'm so glad you made time to see me_

_How's life? Tell me, how's your family?_

_I haven't seen them in a while_

Wei Ying slid into the booth fifteen minutes late. He was wearing a burgundy turtleneck and black jeans, his dark, wavy hair tucked messily into a bun, strands of it slipping free to frame his face. He looked effortlessly beautiful. “Sorry,” he smiled politely. “I had to drive A-Yuan to Jingyi’s. They had a playdate.”

Lan Zhan nodded slowly, his eyes glued to the beloved face he’d denied himself for so long, too long. “I’m so glad you came.”

Wei Ying shrugged. “For old times’ sake, right?”

Lan Zhan swallowed his nerves, hiding his trembling hands under the table. “An Americano as usual?” he asked.

“Ah, no, I quit coffee a long time ago.” Wei Ying said distractedly, his eyes going over to his phone as if checking for a notification. “I get too jittery from it. I drink hojicha now, or rooibos if they have it. It’s supposed to be healthy.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “I just like the taste.”

Wei Ying made his way to the counter to order his tea.

Lan Zhan stared helplessly at the figure he struck in his red-and-black ensemble. Wei Ying, if possible, had grown even more beautiful in the five years since they’d broken up. He’d grown out of his lanky, awkward limbs – he was lean now, lightly muscled and as tan as he’d ever been. He dressed better, moved more confidently – gone were the oversized, shapeless hoodies and slouchy posture that used to accentuate his small paunch. Instead, his fitted turtleneck hinted at his lean frame, and his slim jeans hugged his generous ass. Lan Zhan averted his eyes, internally chastising himself.

Wei Ying had always been beautiful, but now he was objectively gorgeous.

“You look good.” He blurted when Wei Ying slid back into the seat opposite him.

Wei Ying smiled, a soft, warm thing that used to be reserved for Lan Zhan. His heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Thank you.” He looked down at his lap, blushing. “It’s all thanks to my husband.”

“Your husband?” and Lan Zhan must have sounded slightly strangled because Wei Ying was flushing an even deeper shade of pink now. “No, no, it’s not like that.” He defended, completely misinterpreting Lan Zhan’s reaction. “He’s just really big on bodybuilding and he goes to the gym a lot, that’s all. I go with him, sometimes.” He grinned a tiny, mischievous grin. “I get a great view.”

Of course. _Of course_ Wei Ying had moved on. He was married now. Lan Zhan didn’t even know. He hadn’t even been invited to the wedding. He’d been such a _fool_. What had he thought, that Wei Ying would wait around for him forever?

“Oh.” Lan Zhan managed to say through the pressure on his chest. He swallowed, hard. “How’s your family?”

Wei Ying grinned as if he’d been waiting for him to ask the question. Lan Zhan sat there, his heart crumbling bit by bit as he listened to Wei Ying tell stories about his wonderful husband and adorable child, the antics they got up to on a daily basis. 

This could have been his. He looked at Wei Ying now, how radiantly he smiled and talked and moved, and thought _he could have been mine._

It could never be, now.

_You've been good, busier than ever_

_We small talk, work and the weather_

_Your guard is up and I know why_

_Because the last time you saw me_

_Is still burned in the back of your mind_

“And how,” he said, desperate to change the subject to something else, anything else but how happy Wei Ying was with his family now. “are you?”

Wei Ying’s smile dimmed a little, his grey eyes slightly wary now that the subject had turned more personal. “I’m good. Busier than ever now that my start-up’s getting more business. You?”

“I…” _I miss you_. He wanted to say. _I still miss you all the time_. “I’m okay.” He said instead. “My brother is CEO of Lan Industries, and I’m his right-hand man.”

“It really did go the way you always thought it would, huh?”

“Yes.” His life had been so well-planned, all laid out for him and set in stone before Wei Ying. Wei Ying had made him feel _wild_ for the short time he’d had with him. Then his uncle had given him a reality check, and he’d gone back to that life. Structured. Planned. One-track trajectory.

Wei Ying chuckled awkwardly. “Uh, nice day today, huh? It’s been raining all week.”

“Yes.”

Wei Ying stared out the window as if he had somewhere better to be.

Lan Zhan felt powerless to bring his attention back.

They sat in stifling silence for another long moment.

“So, uh, how’s _your_ family? I guess you hit it off with Mianmian?”

“No.”

“You were engaged to someone else?”

“No, I did not hit it off with Mianmian.”

His teacup was empty. If he peered closely at the clump of tea leaves at the bottom of his cup, they looked a little bit like lumps of coal. Or like the ashes of his broken heart.

The thing was, he had no one to blame. This was his fault.

“I didn’t marry her. I couldn’t.”

_You gave me roses and I left them there to die_

The night Lan Wangji broke up with Wei Ying, they’d been on their way to get ice cream. “Winter ice cream is the best, Lan Zhan, you’ll see!” he’d cheered, skipping forwards eagerly.

Lan Zhan had watched him, watched him glow under the yellow and orange streetlights as night settled over the neighbourhood. He’d watched him, and he’d thought he didn’t deserve to have this.

Lan Zhan didn’t deserve Wei Ying. Wei Ying, who was bright and bold and beautiful. Wei Ying, who’d entered his heart like fireworks setting off in his chest, slipping past all his walls like they had never existed. Wei Ying, who was about to be dumped.

“We should break up.” He said quietly. His uncle had made it clear to him. It was Wei Ying or his Lan inheritance. Wei Ying or his future job at Lan Industries. Wei Ying or his family.

“I am engaged.” Lan Zhan said woodenly. His tongue was thick and sluggish in his mouth. He felt sick.

“I – what? Who?” Wei Ying had asked, wide silver eyes staring pleadingly up at him.

Lan Zhan averted his eyes. He concentrated very hard on making his breathing even. He was certain that if he opened his mouth right now it would come out as a sob. It was Mianmian, Mianmian in his business class, and he’d known for a week and couldn’t find a way to tell him. Instead he’d looked at Mianmian, and she’d looked at him, and he’d tried desperately to come up with any attraction at all towards her.

And Wei Ying had asked “do you like Mianmian” with a possessive hand on his sleeve.

“… No.” he’d said honestly, wondering guiltily if it would be easier for everyone if he did. If only he could like her.

“I love you.” Wei Ying had said on the sidewalk on their way to the ice cream parlor, eyes streaming with tears, hands like shackles locked around his wrists. He said it like it would fix everything, like love was all they needed, like Lan Zhan did not have obligations to his family, expectations he needed to fulfil.

Wei Ying’s hands had left bruises on his wrists for an entire week. He’d wished they’d last longer, wished Wei Ying had held on tighter, could hold on tighter so he’d never have to leave.

“I’ve never felt this way for anyone but you.” He’d said, and Lan Zhan had frozen because he’d never felt this way for anyone else, either, and two thousand Mianmians could never measure up to what Wei Ying meant to him. He’d wavered, two halves of his heart ripping each other apart in his chest, begging him to stay, to leave, and oh, it was so hard to do either.

“We can fix this, whatever this is.”

But they couldn’t.

Wei Ying had offered him roses and hopes and love on the sidewalk, and he’d left them crumpled on the concrete – he’d left them there to die.

Every step away from him had felt like a knife to the gut.

_So this is me swallowin' my pride_

_Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night_

_And I go back to December all the time_

Lan Zhan swallowed his pride, his fear, his regret. They tasted bitter and thick as they went down his throat. “I am sorry,” he said, his voice so low it could almost be counted as a whisper. “for that night.”

Wei Ying blinked at him, clearly having no idea what he was talking about. “What night?” he laughed uncomfortably. “We haven’t seen each other in years.”

“The night I broke up with you. December 3rd, 2015. We were going to get ice cream.”

Wei Ying’s expression froze, tensed, softened, passing between his emotions so quickly Lan Zhan couldn’t read any of them clearly.

“You remember?” A wry smile curled up a corner of Wei Ying’s plump lips.

“I go back to December all the time.”

They sat there, the atmosphere still and silent in the wake of his admission. It felt good to finally have it out in the open, to express his regret, his apology. It felt like a load off his shoulders.

Wei Ying sighed, taking a long sip of his tea. He put his teacup down with a quiet clink. “You were really such a jerk back then.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

_It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you_

_Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine_

_I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright_

He did know.

Every day without Wei Ying had _ached_. If walking away from him had felt like a particularly brutal knifing, staying away had throbbed continuously like a bruise that never healed.

He’d walk by the computer engineering department and Wei Ying’s laughter would be echoing in his ears, like he were still there, still his. He’d stare at Wei Ying’s social media, the photos he posted with his friends, of coffee, of clubbing and drinking, and swallow bitterly at the thought that Wei Ying seemed to be doing so well, living so fully now that Lan Zhan wasn’t there to hold him back. He’d find his fingers automatically playing _their song_ on the guqin, find himself staring off into space alone in his empty, spacious three-bedroom house, find himself lying listlessly in bed in the morning, unable to get up because Wei Ying’s spicy, woodsy scent had finally faded completely from his pillows.

He’d missed Wei Ying like a missing limb, and every memory of theirs felt like an assault, an insistent prodding at his fresh bruises.

He’d avoided Wei Ying at all costs. He thought Wei Ying probably hated him, had every right to hate him – they’d loved each other too much to return to being friends, and not seeing him would probably hurt less.

Living without Wei Ying was structured. Regular. Peaceful. Things he’d sometimes craved when he’d still been dating him. When he finally got them, it hurt too much to enjoy. He’d keep looking up from his routines, getting distracted, itching to be disturbed, to be approached and teased in the lilting tone Wei Ying sometimes employed when Lan Zhan was being particularly stubborn.

He wished he’d appreciated Wei Ying more. He wished he’d realised what he’d had when Wei Ying had still been his. He wished Wei Ying knew how much he’d meant, how much he still meant, to him.

_I go back to December all the time_

He did not hit it off with Mianmian.

To her credit, she’d tried very hard to get along with him, to make their engagement work.

He just… couldn’t stop comparing her with Wei Ying. Mianmian was great, she was objectively very pretty and very intelligent, and one day she would be a strong and successful woman in her own right, but she was not Wei Ying.

No one could be Wei Ying.

Mianmian would talk to him, and he’d zone out because her voice was the wrong pitch, and her intonation was different from the way Wei Ying spoke. Her Mandarin pronunciation was perfect and unaccented, and Lan Zhan missed the harsher, unpolished notes of Wei Ying’s voice, Yunmeng dialect seeping occasionally into his speech.

Mianmian would dress up for him in heels and short skirts. “How do I look?” she’d ask, and Lan Zhan would reply dutifully that she looked good, distracted by a memory of the one time Wei Ying had worn a short red skirt and garters for him – how incredible he’d looked then, and how quickly both items of clothing had been discarded.

Mianmian would sidle up to him in class, in the cafeteria, in the library, and all he could think about was how she was the wrong size, the wrong shape, the wrong weight leaning against his side. She smelt like flowery perfume, pungent and stifling against his senses. (Wei Ying had smelt like spice and sun and home.) He would gently push her away, and she’d look, momentarily, both furious and ashamed. “I’m sorry.” He’d say gently.

She’d nod, eyes slightly red, and turn away from him, and he’d feel horribly guilty over the relief in his chest when she finally moved away a little.

Mianmian was a smart girl. He was certain she knew, or at least suspected, that he could not care for her the way she wanted him to. But she tried.

She tried to kiss him, once, and he’d pushed her away in a panic. “No.” he’d said roughly, his breathing harsh and loud in his ears. Mianmian had cried. All Lan Zhan had seen was Wei Ying, Wei Ying looking at him with wide, accusing, betrayed eyes, tears rolling down his face as he begged him not to go.

“I love you.” Wei Ying had said on the sidewalk that December night.

Lan Zhan looked despairingly at Mianmian, who kicked him in the shin really, really hard and ran away sobbing. He felt helpless tears welling up in his own eyes, partly in response to the pain (Mianmian was trained in martial arts, and her kick was very powerful), and partly in response to a sudden realization. He’d known this before, but he’d never acknowledged it – he wasn’t over Wei Ying.

Lan Zhan would never be over Wei Ying.

He let the tears finally flow for the first time since December.

Mianmian came back much, much later, her eyes bloodshot and swollen. She sat down next to him and tried to hold his hand. He shook it off, flinching away. They both cried.

They dissolved their engagement a week later, almost nine months after he’d broken up with Wei Ying.

“I _hate_ you.” Mianmian said, an awful hitch in her voice. “I wasted so much time and so many tears on you.” An errant tear slipped out of her right eye, and she swiped at it impatiently with a sleeve. “I won’t cry over you anymore.” She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans for the first time in a long time. It reminded him a little of the way Wei Ying dressed. He wondered if Wei Ying felt the same? If Wei Ying hated him now, if Wei Ying felt he’d wasted his time.

“I hope you find happiness.” He said sincerely.

“I will.” She declared. “Just not with you.”

“Just not with me.” He echoed.

His uncle had been furious when he’d insisted on breaking the engagement. He was sent to study abroad for four years, and had just returned recently.

Returned to a Wei Ying who was, apparently, happily married with children.

_These days, I haven't been sleepin'_

_Stayin' up playin' back myself leavin'_

The years Lan Zhan spent overseas were a jumbled haze in his mind. He spent it in endless yearning for Wei Ying – the kind warmth of his hyper presence, the way his love made it easier to love himself, the way Wei Ying made talking and just being, easier.

He remembered nights and nights of sleeplessness, eyes fixed onto the ceiling, playing back the way he’d left, the way Wei Ying had looked that December night on the sidewalk, the way they’d never even gotten ice cream.

They should’ve gotten ice cream.

Maybe it would’ve ended better if they’d gotten ice cream first. Maybe it wouldn’t have ended at all, maybe he’d have talked himself out of breaking up with Wei Ying.

Sometimes he woke up with a wet pillow and dried tears on his face, with no memory of what he’d dreamed about, only that Wei Ying must have been in it. Sometimes he saw couples kissing on the street and would have such an intense craving for Wei Ying that he felt like doubling over with the force of it. _December_ was most difficult to get through. It was easiest, then, to slip back into memories of _that_ December – the bone-crushing grief and yearning and regret of having to let Wei Ying _go_.

_When your birthday passed and I didn't call_

Wei Ying’s birthday was on October 31st. Every year he would sit in front of his phone, stare at Wei Ying’s contact, and not call.

He didn’t deserve to call.

He hoped Wei Ying had a good birthday. Hoped he was happy. Hoped he was well.

 _Wei Ying_ , he thought in the recesses of his own mind, his hands moving automatically over the guqin in the familiar tune of _Zhanying_. _Happy birthday._

_Then I think about summer, all the beautiful times_

_I watched you laughin' from the passenger's side_

_And realized I loved you in the fall_

Lan Zhan stayed away for five years. For five whole years, the Wei Ying-shaped hole by his side had never diminished an iota. Sometimes he wished it would. Sometimes he was grateful it was still there – a reminder of a once vibrant, earth-shattering love, a reminder of his failures.

In the summer he would stare for hours at the dust motes dancing through the stuffy air of his empty, lifeless residence, illuminated by the warm glow of the day. He would get lost in the memories of Wei Ying, Wei Ying laughing in the sunlight from the passenger side of his white Audi, windows wound down and wind ruffling through his messy curls. Wei Ying in a T-shirt and jeans, tackling him in a bear hug, limbs wrapping firmly around his frame, whispering “love you” into his ear with his lips warm against his earlobe. Wei Ying grinning up at him, shirt sticking to him and skin gleaming with sweat, slightly flushed and so, so beautiful.

Lan Zhan hadn’t said it back until the fall, when campus had been full of golden-brown leaves fluttering in the sudden chill of fall. One leaf had fallen on Wei Ying’s messy bun, and he’d reached out to remove it. Lan Zhan had paused to admire the soft, sweet curve of Wei Ying’s mouth, the pretty grey of his playful, dancing eyes, the arch of his neck as he leaned into his touch, and suddenly knew, without a doubt, that this was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“I love you.” He’d said, the words slipping from his mouth so naturally that he hadn’t even registered the words until they resonated in his own ears.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s eyes had filled with happy tears, love shining through clearly even without it being said. “I love you too.” And they’d kissed and kissed with the giddy joy of people who loved each other, golden leaves drifting down from the branches above them and swirling at their ankles in the wind.

Lan Zhan loved Wei Ying. He’d always loved him, loved his energy and kindness and righteousness, loved how he felt and smelled and looked, loved the wideness of his grin, his boisterous laughter, his good-natured teasing.

But it was fall when he first confessed his love for the other man, and it was fall when they’d fallen into bed together for the first time.

_And then the cold came, the dark days_

_When fear crept into my mind_

_You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye_

Lan Qiren had been furious when he realised his nephew was gay and in a relationship with a guy to boot. “You – how _dare_ you – Break up with him!” he’d raged. “You’re no nephew of mine! I didn’t raise you to be gay! You’re not permitted to be gay!”

His brother had tried to calm him down to no avail. Lan Zhan had sat there stiffly in front of his seething uncle, shame and fear freezing him to his seat. He’d always known his uncle was very reserved, but he’d never thought he would refuse to accept this – refuse to accept him.

The next week his uncle had somehow whipped up an engagement with Mianmian, and set down an ultimatum: he would break up with Wei Ying and take up with Mianmian if he didn’t want to be disowned.

He’d chosen to stay, and he’d paid for that choice.

Sometimes he wondered what would have become of him had he been braver, had he refused to let go of what he’d had with Wei Ying. He wondered if he would be happier. If the gnawing ache in his chest, day in and day out, would be any less.

How would he fare without his family?

Perhaps not worse than how he was faring now, without Wei Ying.

He could not remember the last time he’d spoken to his uncle without feeling sick – betrayed.

Wei Ying had said “I love you”, begging him to stay. His uncle had said “how dare you” and ordered him to change.

And because he was a coward (afraid, so afraid), he’d said goodbye to the only man – the only person he would ever love so deeply.

When Wei Ying called him at 3am in the morning, an entire week after they’d broken up, he’d been lying awake in bed. It was long past his bedtime, but sleep was far from his whirling, despairing mind. He blinked at the flashing caller ID, listened numbly to the tinny recording of _Zhanying_ he’d set as Wei Ying’s ringtone. His phone seemed to ring forever. When it stopped, he had 10 missed calls and 1 voicemail.

He clicked on the voicemail with clumsy fingers, missing it multiple times before finally managing to play it.

Wei Ying was crying.

Lan Zhan wished he could cry too. Instead he buried himself deeper into his bedsheets and re-listened to his ex-boyfriend’s sobbing, the shattered pieces of his own heart twisting like knives in his chest. “But what am I supposed to do now?” Wei Ying’s voice sounded wrecked.

Lan Zhan had never loathed himself more.

“Get over me.” He’d said back, timing his call early on purpose so Wei Ying would still be sleeping when he left his voicemail. He’d dropped his phone onto the mattress afterwards, sliding shaky hands down his face. _Get over me,_ he’d thought, hoping he would, hoping he’d find someone better, someone who could take care of Wei Ying and love him the way Lan Zhan couldn’t anymore.

He’d been naïve then. Stupid. Back then he’d thought he stood a chance at getting over Wei Ying. He’d thought it would hurt, but he hadn’t known it would hurt forever.

_So this is me swallowin' my pride_

_Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night_

_And I go back to December all the time_

“I’m sorry.” He repeated.

Wei Ying laughed quietly. “After all this time, you’re still so earnest, Lan Zhan.” He flapped a paper napkin flippantly at him. “I forgive you.”

Lan Zhan blinked back at him in disbelief. “You do?”

Wei Ying shrugged. “It worked out for me in the end.” He smiled shyly down at the table. “I am happy now.”

Lan Zhan had told Wei Ying to move on. He’d underestimated how much it would hurt when he did.

_It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you_

_Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine_

_I'd go back to December, turn around and change my own mind_

_I go back to December all the time_

Lan Zhan was sitting perfectly straight on his sofa, staring blankly into the space in front of him, when the doorbell rang.

He couldn’t get up to open it.

“Lan Zhan!” His brother’s voice – not Wei Ying’s, never Wei Ying’s again – called.

He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out of it. He closed his mouth again, feeling foolish. Helpless.

“Lan Zhan!” His brother sounded slightly frantic on the other side of the door. “I’m coming in!”

There was a bit of rummaging as his brother located the spare keys to his house (the keys he had, once, planned to give to Wei Ying too).

The lock snapped open. The door slid open with a click. Lan Huan walked in. The sight of his elder brother was both comforting and damning, because now his brother would _know,_ would know how he’d pined uselessly after an ex-boyfriend he’d dumped for five long years, would know how pathetic he was, how cowardly and how stupid.

A lone tear slid down his right cheek without his noticing. He shifted his blank stare to his trembling hands in his lap. They hadn’t stopped shaking since this afternoon, when Wei Ying’s husband had come to pick him up, and he’d looked so happy – happier than he could remember him ever being with Lan Zhan, because Lan Zhan had always needed Wei Ying to tease reactions and affection from his stoicism, and his husband clearly did not – he’d showered affectionate kisses on Wei Ying, right in front of Lan Zhan, and every bone in his body was screaming at him to wrench Wei Ying away and guard him jealously, that Wei Ying was _his,_ his and not this tall, ridiculous, improper (and buff, Wei Ying had clearly been honest when he talked about the good view) man’s.

“A-Jue!” Wei Ying giggled, pushing the man away from him after a while. “Let’s go.”

The man – A-Jue – slipped a thick arm around Wei Ying’s narrow waist, shot him a self-satisfied smirk, and steered Wei Ying around towards the doorway. He didn’t even bother to introduce himself to him.

Before he knew it, Wei Ying had already left with the man, a flurry of activity and sun-bright smiles. He tossed a casual wave over his shoulder, and was gone.

Lan Zhan had continued sitting at the booth at the coffee shop until a staff member had sheepishly asked him to give up his seat for other customers during the evening rush hour. Then he had stumbled home in a daze, and sat on his sofa blankly until his brother had walked in.

“ _Oh_ , A-Zhan.” Lan Huan sat down beside him on the sofa. “Tell me what happened.”

Lan Zhan shook his head, an errant tear sliding down his other cheek. He couldn’t. “My fault.” He whispered instead. “My penance.”

Lan Huan held out a hand. He took it obediently through blurry eyes, and let his older brother lead him to his bedroom. His brother pushed him down on the bed gently. “Sleep it off.” He said, his voice quiet and deep in the fading grey light the cloudy evening supplied through the windows. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Thank you.” Lan Zhan was relieved that his brother seemed to understand that he didn’t want to answer the questions he no doubt had at the moment.

The relief did not last long when his brother hesitated at the doorway and opened his mouth. “Do I…” he hesitated. “did anyone hurt you?”

What he means is _do I need to screw anyone over?_

“No.” he choked out, something sour and hot building behind his nose and eyes. He raised the covers and hid his face underneath.

There was a long silence in the room. Lan Zhan wondered if Lan Huan had left yet. He stayed still underneath the covers, breathing quietly, eyes burning. Lan Huan let out a long, drawn-out sigh. Another extended silence culminated in quiet footsteps leading down the corridor and to the front door. A barely audible click and snap signalled that his brother had finally left.

Lan Zhan pushed away the covers and swallowed the sobs that bubbled up from his chest. His house – empty, large, and echoing – amplified every pained, quiet gasp he made as the tears streaked relentlessly down his face. He turned on his side, wrapping his arms around his shaking frame. He had been too late, too late –

He had hoped for so much. 

_I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile_

_So good to me, so right_

He missed Wei Ying, had never stopped missing him from the moment he’d walked away from him that December night.

He missed Wei Ying’s perpetually tan skin, his sweet, enthusiastic smile, the way he said “Lan Zhan!” like other people would yell “Merry Christmas!” or “Happy New Year!” – no one else could say it right, no one else said it like Wei Ying.

He missed the way Wei Ying’s hand had fit in his, he missed how right he felt in his arms, he missed how Wei Ying made the world feel brighter, warmer with his presence.

Wei Ying had always been so good to him, so good for him. He’d made Lan Zhan bolder, taught him to experience new things, live life fuller – to eat ice cream in winter, to drink taro-flavoured boba tea, to mix strawberries with chocolate and nachos with siracha sauce and cheese (it had set his tongue on fire but Lan Zhan had not minded when Wei Ying was laughing with his head thrown back – laughing at his expense, but _laughing_ ).

Wei Ying had taught him to think about what he wanted to do with his life. Not just what he’d assumed he’d do with it, not just what his family had groomed him to do, but what he wanted. (He’d wanted music, and Wei Ying, and now he only had _Zhanying_ on repeat and no Wei Ying.) He’d taught him about social justice, brought him to do local social work, taught him more about the world than anyone else had ever taught him.

Lan Zhan missed Wei Ying. He missed when Wei Ying had still been his. He missed the man he’d been, around Wei Ying.

They’d been so good together.

_And how you held me in your arms that September night_

_The first time you ever saw me cry_

The first time Wei Ying had seen Lan Zhan cry, they’d still been in high school. It had been September, and Wei Ying had just spent the entire summer cajoling Lan Zhan to drive them around to different places.

He remembered why he’d been crying. He’d gotten the first F in his entire life because Su She had torn up his homework and flushed it down the toilet. He’d heard gossiping about how weird he was – no friends, didn’t talk to anyone, cold, arrogant, boring, teacher’s pet… Su She had stood on a table during recess and asked the entire class who wanted to be Lan Zhan’s friend and everyone had laughed. No one said yes.

Lan Zhan had speed-walked out of the classroom with as much dignity as he could gather around him, locked himself into a toilet cubicle, and cried ugly, shameful tears into his sleeves.

Not five minutes later someone knocked on his cubicle door. He swallowed back the sobs at the back of his throat, determined to not show weakness now that someone else was around.

“Lan Zhan?” It was Wei Ying. He would recognise that voice anywhere. “Is that you? Are you… are you _crying_?” Wei Ying sounded dumbfounded and slightly panicked.

“Go away.” Lan Zhan growled back, hot tears still running traitorously down his face. “Are you here to make fun of me, too?”

There was a long pause on the other side of the cubicle. He watched as the shoes beyond the gap of the cubicle door pivoted and walked away. He buried his face in his hands again, letting out a quiet wail now that Wei Ying had left. Now that even Wei Ying, who had pestered him without end all summer, had left. He truly was as pathetic as they said he was, wasn’t he? He truly had no friends. He was every bit as unapproachable, as boring, as stuffy as they all said he was.

Someone landed on the toilet lid next to him with a loud thump. He looked up, tears stopping momentarily in shock. Wei Ying… had not left, like he thought. Wei Ying had… walked into the cubicle next to him and somehow flipped himself over the partitioning between the cubicles… and now he was standing sheepishly on the toilet lid of his cubicle.

“You could have just asked me to unlock the door, you know?” Lan Zhan deadpanned.

Wei Ying laughed, like he actually enjoyed Lan Zhan’s company, like he’d actually found him funny. “Yes,” he grinned. “but what would’ve been the fun in that?”

“Besides, would you have opened the door for me?”

Lan Zhan did not reply to that, but he thought that perhaps he would have… for Wei Ying, perhaps he would have. But with Wei Ying, he’d never needed to – Wei Ying had always entered his heart so easily, vaulting over all his walls the way he’d flipped into his cubicle that day.

They’d both skipped the next class. Wei Ying had dried his tears with shocking gentleness. “Do you want to talk about it?”

So it all spilled out of him – his first F, what they’d said about him, how no one had wanted to be his friend – and Wei Ying held his hand the whole time and traced soothing little patterns on the back of it.

“Who would want to be my friend, anyway?” he’d asked bitterly. “It’s true what they say. I’m not interesting, or fun, or good at talking to people.”

“I do.” Wei Ying had said firmly. “I want to be your friend. And it’s not true, Lan Zhan, I think you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Will you let me be your friend?”

Lan Zhan nodded carefully. Wei Ying squealed and threw his arms around him in their first hug.

It was the first (and last) time Lan Zhan had ever skipped class. It was also the first time Lan Zhan really started to consider Wei Ying as a confidant and friend.

(Wei Ying poured superglue all over Su She’s seat the next morning. Su She tried to get up and ripped the back of his trousers in the process. He’d been wearing SpongeBob boxers. Everyone laughed. Lan Zhan tried to look disapprovingly at Wei Ying and failed.)

_Maybe this is wishful thinkin'_

_Probably mindless dreamin'_

Lan Zhan sat up in his bed. It felt like he had tossed and turned endless times in the past – he checked his digital clock on the cabinet beside his bed – three hours. It was past his bedtime. He couldn’t get Wei Ying out of his mind.

It was ridiculous. Foolhardy. It was probably wishful thinking. But he needed to try one more time, to just… talk. With Wei Ying. He’d spent so long without him and today he’d had so little time with him. He didn’t know what he hoped for. For Wei Ying to desert his husband and child and come running back to him? Wei Ying wouldn’t, he knew that.

Maybe, then, for them to be friends again, at least. For Wei Ying to speak to him again, without that guarded, careful look he’d had today.

It would hurt for them to just be friends, but it would be better than not having Wei Ying in any capacity at all.

He stared at Wei Ying’s contact on his phone. All these years and he’d never changed it. This had to be a sign, right? He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the call button, his heart thumping painfully in his chest.

He pressed call.

_But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right_

_I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't_

_So if the chain is on your door, I understand_

“Hello?” It was Wei Ying. Lan Zhan let out a huge breath of relief. “Who’s this?”

Lan Zhan froze. Wei Ying… had deleted his number?

“Wei Ying?” He asked, something hot and achy rising up his throat.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying sounded confused. “What’s going on?”

And just like before, just like ten years earlier in a toilet cubicle, everything came spilling out.

“Wei Ying.” He said into the phone, his eyes burning. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you.”

_But this is me swallowin' my pride_

_Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night_

_And I go back to December_

“I’m so sorry for that night, I never meant to… didn’t mean to hurt you. My uncle made me choose. Said he’d disown me, disinherit me, if I held on to you. I broke up with Mianmian because I couldn’t get over you.”

Wei Ying was silent on the other end of the line.

“I go back to December all the time. I regret it so much, Wei Ying, you don’t know – I miss you so much.”

_It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you_

_Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine_

_I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright_

_I'd go back to December, turn around and change my own mind_

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying said, not unkindly. “What are you doing?”

He swallowed hard, tears blurring his vision as his mouth kept running. Years and years of silence and solitude and now he was saying everything he’d meant to say, and everything he’d never wanted to say.

“I don’t _know_.” He said, his voice cracking. “I just… miss you, all the time. I wish I hadn’t let you go. Wei _Ying_ , you would have been _mine_. We would have been so good together. We were so good together.”

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying sighed deeply. “Maybe you shouldn’t call me anymore.”

The line went dead.

_I go back to December all the time_

_All the time_

The phone dropped from Lan Zhan’s limp grasp, hitting the floor with a loud bang.

Lan Zhan curled on his side and shook.

This time no one would vault over his walls to comfort him.

This time Wei Ying was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wei Ying's husband can be anyone you like.  
> In my imagination, it's Nie Mingjue (and there is exactly one mention of "A-Jue" in this to feed that, but otherwise it really could be anyone).
> 
> How wwx and nmj met: wwx gained a lot of weight after his breakup so he got his shit together and joined the gym, hoping it would be a religious experience  
> He met nmj there, who was weight-training  
> He did eventually get his religious experience in getting deliciously railed by nmj  
> Nhs is equally amused and horrified (also, he may or may not have recommended the gym to wwx offhandedly)
> 
> Did wwx need therapy after his terrible breakup with lwj? Yes, but he got over it eventually and got into a healthy, happy relationship with nmj and now they're married with adorable baby A-Yuan as their kid (because in every universe A-Yuan is wwx's baby, birthed from his very own body).
> 
> ~~~  
> I know we all wanted a happy ending, and this is kind of it... but also... pure angst at the same time? Whoops.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah, and you can listen to the original 'drivers license' [**here**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZmDBbnmKpqQ)  
>  and a pretty good male version of it [**here**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wIhHKgP4Ndo)
> 
> Happy reading and listening!! 🤗


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